Gripe
by Kalen
Summary: Plague strikes the Hanagumi. (Revised for comprehension purposes.)


Gripe Title: Gripe  
Author: [Kalen][1]  
Summary: Slight AU; the Hanagumi is strongly affected by the 1918 influenza plague.  
Disclaimer: Sakura Taisen belongs to the Powers that Be in whatever company they were distrubuted by; I am not one of them ...  
Note: The "slight AU" would pertain to the fact I shifted the storyline a year back. Blatant Maria/Sakura, you may assume what that entails. Harmless, beyond the circa-1920s medical analyses. They're scientifically idiots, so I'm fine. ^_^

+++

_October 1918_

Sakura cast an anxious glance at Maria, taking a shaking, deep breath before singing the last line. "Anata no tamenara-" Her voice broke. Maria gave her a concerned glance, moving closer than she normally would for the role.

"Watashi wa shineru," Sakura completed in unison with her, nearly breathless. By then, the audience began to notice, with accompanying murmurs passing through the front row. Maria's strong grip on her elbow was the only thing keeping her standing. The disoriented actress dimly heard Kanna yelling offstage at a confused stagehand someone to close the curtain. The heavy burgundy material fell with a sharp snap, accompanied by hesitant clapping from spectators. But Sakura was in too much pain to care.

+ + +

"Oi!" Kanna darted over, looking worried as Sakura was helped over to a chair backstage. "What happened?"

"This morning you told me it was just a cold," Maria scolded, kneeling next to her. The blonde had her hand on Sakura's forehead, confirming a fever.

"I'm okay," Sakura insisted, rising unsteadily. Maria reflexively caught her as she lost her balance; she was shivering from an imagined cold.

Kohran skittered over, a nervous expression on her face. "The audience is getting annoyed."

"No, you're not okay," Kanna remarked dryly, taking note of Kohran's comment. "Kohran, why don't you replace her? There are only two more acts."

"Excuse me," Sumire said loudly. "I'm the understudy, so I should take the role. You forget there's another performance after this."

"They only made you understudy to shut you up, witch," Kanna muttered.

"What did you say?" Sumire demanded. Kohran gave Maria a pleading look, her sprightly demeanor evaporating as she watched the normally amusing fights between the pugnacious Hanagumi members complicate matters.

"Kirishima Kanna. Kanzaki Sumire. Stop. It," Maria snapped. "Seeing as our captain is not here, I am the one in charge - Kohran, you replace Sakura. Kanna, you replace me." Kohran nodded her acquiescence, ducking out to change her costume.

"That would get people more upset," Kanna replied as she moved away from Sumire, with an annoyed glare towards her team-member. "I'll take her; don't worry. Just go and finish the show."

Maria frowned; she had a point. Her irrational protectiveness for Sakura was irrelevant; having at least one of their star actors complete the play was more important. But still …

"Go finish," Sakura urged quietly, her head leaning on Maria's shoulder. She squeezed Maria's arm comfortingly. "I'm fine."

The "I don't believe you" was unnecessary, but Maria did let Kanna take her, straightening the white military costume with a habitual gesture. Kohran reappeared in an outfit identical to Sakura's.

Sakura felt Kanna's muscular arms scoop her up, and a nauseating feeling as she was carried from backstage to her room and set down, somewhat roughly, on her bed.

"Hey, someone'll be here in a minute," Kanna said, shifting her weight from foot to foot before busying herself by spreading some blankets over Sakura. "Don't worry. Maria'll be here, too, when the performance is over. I have to go back now, but-"

"Thank you," Sakura whispered, head buried in her pillow until Kanna left. She was freezing, even though it was a relatively warm October. The extra blankets didn't help. A dull headache pounding behind her eyes, she fell into a fitful sleep.

+ + +

In the dormitory wing, Maria sat and listened to the grandfather-clock chime. Nine deep bongs registered; she leaned forward and shook Sakura's shoulder lightly.

"Sakura," she called. "Sakura, wake up."

"Maria?" she asked, opening her eyes and shivering. There was a lackluster appearance to her face. "I'm so cold."

Maria mentally frowned. With that many blankets, she would have thought Sakura was uncomfortably warm.

"It's okay," Maria responded softly, helping her sit upright. Her protectiveness of the girl returned fully as she handed Sakura a tray of food. "I'm sure you'll be fine in a few days."

"Of course. It will just be hell while I'm sick."

Maria forced herself to smile at the mild quip. She watched Sakura eat for a few minutes, as Sakura abandoned the proper Japanese decorum and ravenously biting into Yuri's specially prepared meal.

"What is it, dushenka?" The affectionate Russian term fell from her mouth subconsciously, and she fought the urge to blush at her use of it. Sakura was too ill to notice, malaise passing over her face as she hurried out of her bed, only to stumble and fall, vomiting; a concerned Maria holding her hair back while yelling for one of the girls.

+ + +

Ayame flinched as she heard a yell from the direction of Kanna's room, and shook her head, hand still on the doorknob to the room where Sakura was.

"Maria?" She walked in without knocking. "Are you alright?" Ayame queried in fluent English. She knew the girl was more comfortable in that language, even though she was half-Japanese.

Maria was dozing in a chair, and her head snapped up at the intrusion. "Ayame. I'm fine. How are you?"

"Not well - rather, the town isn't. Whatever Sakura has is spreading. It's the flu, but-"

"How bad?"

"Many have died already - and it's only been just over a week."

The somber information was punctuated by Sakura's hacking cough, her shaking body curled on its side. Ayame was silently glad she couldn't understand their conversation.

"You haven't left her side since she got sick, Maria. Get some rest."

"No, I-"

Sakura abruptly woke up, the suffocation caused by her coughing yanking her harshly back to consciousness. The wild, confused look in her eyes was painful to watch.

"Okaasama?" Sakura asked, bewildered. "Okaasama, watashi-"

"Shh, shh," Maria coaxed, moving to a sitting position on Sakura's bed. She spoke in soft Japanese, trying to comfort her. Sakura was evidently still somewhat frightened, but let Maria calm her down.

"You look like her mother, and she's delirious," Maria explained, speaking in English again.

Ayame frowned. "I should leave then. Do try to get some rest before you collapse - I'm surprised you haven't already gotten sick yourself."

Ignoring the mild reprimand, Maria inquired, "Before you leave - who else in the Kagekidan has fallen ill?"

"Mostly the serving girls, which doesn't help. Of the Hanagumi, there's been Yoneda, Sakura, Kohran and Kanna. Kohran's fine already, as strange as it may be." A frown reached Ayame's lips. "I worry about Yoneda; but I believe he will be fine too."

"Be sure to keep Iris away from the ill ones." She paused, hand still stroking Sakura's hair. "Kanna is sick?"

"Yes. Sumire is caring for her."

"That is a good idea. Ogami?"

"No - Sumire."

Maria bit back a chuckle, nodding. "I'll go out and help with the others in a few minutes."

"I've assigned Ichirou to lock you in your room once you leave," Ayame warned. "Get some rest - that's an order."

+ + +

Iris curled up in a corner of the dining room, upset. There were ill people throughout the theater house - everyone as either sick or taking care of someone who was, and all of them sent her away from them.

Annoyed, she had wandered into town, hoping to find something of interest. Stores, movie and theater houses - like theirs - restaurants, and the local train station were all closed. Iris was scared.

They had been burying some people in the church cemetery as she walked by. The few citizens out had a guarded look to them, afraid of each other. Some gave her looks of pity, seeing her young and alone, a child still carrying her teddy bear. All silently wondered at the fate that had fallen her parents, the assumption leading to their own destinies.

At one point, an old man she hurriedly walked by started coughing up blood, doubling over in pain.

He reached for her, too delirious to recognize the tiny actress. Iris had shrieked and ran in terror, mid-step transporting her back to the theater house.

She then huddled herself in a ball, hiding in the dining room with Jean-Paul clutched in her arms. Kohran stumbled in, tired. She took a few minutes to notice her, looking surprised when she did. "Iris?"

Iris lifted her head. "I don't like it out there."

"You went outside?" Kohran nearly gawked, reaching out and picking up the reluctant child. "We told you not to."

"It's…" Iris squirmed free of Kohran's grip, subsequently dropping onto a chair by them. "I won't go out again."

Kohran understood why Iris didn't like her. Normally, Sakura would have been the one taking care of the temperamental French child, usually with Maria helping if she had the time. Now, of course, Sakura was bedridden with Maria as her caretaker; Ichirou and the other girls were all either busy or sick. Kohran would have preferred to be in the lab than with Iris, but she didn't have a choice. Besides, hadn't Ichirou been giving speeches lately about unity with the team?

"Come on. Let's go play a game."

+ + +

Ichirou yawned, bringing a soapy hand up to his mouth. Letting it drop to the counter, he snatched a towel next to the sink, drying his hands off. One of the serving girls had gotten sick all over the hallway; he and two others had spent half an hour cleaning the mess up.

He dimly remembered being told to drag Maria out and make sure she ate - he didn't relish the thought of making _that_ one do anything involuntarily.

_Off I go,_ Ichirou thought sullenly, picking up a salad and some form of meat with the intention of temporarily depositing it in the dining room.

To his surprise, Maria was already there, leaning against one of the ground-floor windows and staring out at the empty, bright street, the light amid the forcibly contained chaos seeming unnatural. She turned away from the disturbing vista, visibly disinterested in his entrance but fulfilling duty.

"Ayame told me you'd be here. Sakura was sleeping, and I didn't have a choice," Maria informed him, blatantly unpleased with the situation.

Ichirou was silent, gesturing absently to the food he set on the table. She sat and started eating.

"Thank you," Maria said shortly.

"You really shouldn't push yourself to the limit like that, you know."

She looked at him warily, chewing and swallowing the salad before speaking. "Why is that your business? I'm still the vice-captain; it is my duty to care for the team as well." In more of a whisper to herself, she added, "Even if selfish reasons may concur."

"It's more than that, isn't it? You take care of her, not just everyone else. Why?"

Maria set her fork down, fixating on the table. "You love her too, so you tell me."

Ichirou started, surprised at the response. "Fair enough. You know the answer as well as I do … but our situations are different."

She looked up, an unreadable expression in her face as she spoke. "I was raised to believe my feelings towards her are wrong. She wasn't taught to think that way, but even so, that fails to breach the hereditary decorum she was raised with. What does that make it, then?"

"I don't think anything like love could ever be considered wrong."

"And so, what does that make of the unrequited fools that we are?"

"No, Maria." Ichirou looked amused. "I am the only 'unrequited fool' you speak of." She studied him for a moment, not in confusion - she wasn't stupid enough for that, but was set in her opinions enough to think stupidity of him.

"That's a foolish idea," Maria informed him bluntly, her expression remaining blank. "She most likely thinks of me as her caretaker, as Iris would."

"Sakura doesn't treat you like me, or the others - not as a figure of authority, or seniority. And she hasn't accepted a single suitor since she came here. Why don't you talk to her?"

"She would be better off with you," she retorted, rising with her nearly empty plates in hand. "It's a dishonorable thing to admit when no one respected me even as a man."

Ichirou remained standing, befuddled, as Maria walked out. _Didn't she come from New York? Oh … the Russian army …_ He winced and stared unseeingly at the table. _Am I _ever_ going to understand her?_

+ + +

Tired, Sakura braced herself against the wall, shivering under multiple layers of heavy kimonos. The material was thick and itchy, but it was better than being cold in the simple silk ones she normally wore.

She had woken up with her fever somewhat reduced, but had quickly become agitated. Having spent the past several days with Maria always by her, or at the very least Ayame, made her childishly frightened to be alone. When Kanna appeared in her doorway, she hadn't hesitated to follow her.

The fiery-haired Kirishima had suggested getting away from their caretakers; replying to Sakura's puzzled look with, "Okay, so yours isn't so bad. But mine is," adding a sly wink to her words.

A few minutes later, Kanna was busy raiding the kitchen. Even though she had been ill for a days less than Sakura, she was already past vomiting and was ravenously hungry - not a departure from her usual self. Sakura, even though she had been the first to get sick just over a week prior, still wasn't well.

The Hanagumi's conditions were atypical. The serving girls and Yoneda were still violently ill, while some members of the Hanagumi - Iris, Maria, and Sumire - hadn't gotten sick at all, while those that had were recovering far faster. Sakura had had the worst case of all, and despite still feeling extremely unsteady, was feeling better after only … she failed to remember, but she knew it was much faster than normal. However, the unaccounted time in her memory was disturbing - how much had she missed?

"Well, I guess I cook this," Kanna remarked, bringing Sakura out of her reverie. She was holding up a bag of rice, having dug some vegetables out of the icebox. Sakura nodded, still distracted. Her throat was sore from coughing so much and she wasn't partial to speaking.

At that moment Maria entered the room, an angry look on her face and plates in her hand. She scrubbed them with a misdirected vengeance before noticing the other two in the kitchen, a more livid expression appearing on her face when she did.

"Both of you are supposed to be sleeping."

"Hey, I'm not spending one more minute with that hag," Kanna retorted, setting down the vegetables on a chopping block. "Where's the seaweed?" she asked the room in general.

Maria surveyed the food cautiously, not willing to touch the possibly influenza-laden objects. "You're going to infect the rest of the Hanagumi if you prepare the food."

"It's not a problem if only Sakura and I eat it," she replied with a smirk on her face.

"Both of you probably shouldn't be standing."

"Eh? Well, we are, aren't we?"

Sakura focused on the stone floor, staying out of the conversation. The thought Maria was intentionally ignoring her passed through her mind; as if reading her thoughts, the blonde turned to study her.

"Go back to your room, Sakura, before you get worse."

"I don't want to," she voiced quietly, challenging her for the first time.

Maria's eyebrows arched, startled. "Sakura?"

"I don't want to," she repeated, refusing to look her in the eye. Maria seemed unsure of herself. Kanna stood with a knife in hand, wearing a mirroring expression. Sakura never questioned a command or request, and Maria always knew what to do. At that moment neither was true.

Maria hesitantly stepped forward, checking Sakura for fever.

"It's almost gone," she mused. Sakura responded by throwing her arms around the taller girl's neck, holding tightly and not letting go.

"I'll get out of your way," Kanna proclaimed quickly, pausing to figure out what to do with the food. She gave up and left.

Maria returned the embrace, burying her face in Sakura's hair.

+ + +

_Two weeks later_

The mourners were drifting off, in pairs or alone. Faint chanting could still be heard from the peasants' home.

"What will they do now?" Maria inquired, keeping her voice low. The chilled November air spun and bit at their exposed faces; Maria tightened her grip around Sakura's waist.

"They'll cremate her," Sakura whispered, walking slowly. "It would be impolite for us, as 'professional acquaintances,' to stay for it. But Kumiko was my friend, and I knew that a visit would mean a lot to her family."

The streets remained empty; though now it was not to contain illness, but to prepare their dead and hold wakes. The temples were having problems keeping up, as were the local Christian missionaries. Even the latter paused in encouraging burials - more with an aim of disparaging Buddhist customs than anything - as they worried about the disease spreading through contact with corpses.

"I received a letter, from a friend in Russia … they all became ill as well. The world was affected, for some reason; that area of Russia was hit more harshly because of the weather. Almost no one recovered. Those not ill were killed in battle."

Sakura frowned, moving closer. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright … I rarely make friends. Callous as this sounds, their death doesn't affect me."

"I suppose I can understand that." She knew Maria was lying - she knew Maria had served in the army during the civil war that was still going on. But she refused to press a sensitive subject.

"No one in the Hanagumi died, and you're well now. That's all that matters to me." Maria fell silent as they continued walking, leaving the capital's poorer area and nearing the upscale area the Kagekidan was staged in. Kohran was walking out, Iris next to her. Kohran waved.

Sakura's grimace deepened, as she hadn't noticed the Chinese girl and her temporary charge.

"You're right, no one in the Hanagumi died. Yet so many others …"

"Kumiko's mother had said we were 'blessed.' Perhaps it's our abilities."

"Ayame and Ichirou remained healthy," Sakura said in disagreement.

"We don't know how the disease could have worked; it's different from the normal influenza."

"It isn't fair, that it _would_ work like this …" Sakura paused in her speech as something occurred to her. "These two weeks … you never asked me why I got so upset in the kitchen." She finally noticed Iris and Kohran, waved to them.

"I didn't think you wanted to talk about it. Do you?"

Sakura nodded, remaining quiet for a moment before speaking. "When I had that fever, my dreams were strange." She frowned, trying to remember them. "They… upset me, but I wasn't really that scared. Then, the last one…" Sakura frowned and looked away from the questioning Maria, not really wanting to come to terms with it but feeling it necessary.

She went ahead in a quiet voice, pain filtering through. "In it, you were the one sick and helpless, instead of me. You died, like the others I heard Ayame talking about…" Maria stiffened slightly at the realization Sakura had understood the conversation, "And I couldn't do anything about it. I woke up, and you weren't there…"

"I didn't intend to worry you," Maria apologized, surprised at the admission.

"It will be okay, now," Sakura answered with a wavering smile. "It will be."

Iris ran ahead of Kohran's sedate pace, jumping into Sakura's arms. "Oneechan!" Iris chirped, pleased. "They didn't tell me where you went."

"How did the wake go?" Kohran asked, coming up.

"It doesn't matter," Sakura replied, deciding not to tell her. Kumiko had always been friendly to the child, but she didn't need to know this. Knowledge of Kumiko's … passing would be adequate. Iris understood death, but she didn't want to upset the girl any further.

"She hasn't been difficult, has she?" Maria asked Kohran with a hint of teasing.

"Iris has been good!" Iris insisted, falling back into the childish habit of referring to herself in the third person. "Kohran is fun to play with."

"I taught her how to play cards," Kohran remarked with a wicked grin. "And poker too. She should be able to beat you now, Maria."

"That's wonderful," Maria said, hiding a smirk. Sakura looked horrified.

"You taught a nine-year-old girl _poker?_" 

   [1]: mailto:lucrezia_noin9@gundamwing.net



End file.
